


And So No One Else Can Have You

by flipflop_diva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/M, Happy Ending, Sexual Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione may be Draco's slave, but she is not quite as controllable as Draco would like. And that is something that Draco needs to put a stop to. An AU world set after Deathly Hallows. Based on the prompt <i>Hermione is a war slave. Not only that, she is Draco's war slave. Draco is a cruel master, but he is also in love with her. She grows to love him back.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	And So No One Else Can Have You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DramioneInLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneInLove/gifts).



> DramioneInLove, I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing it, even if it did take a little detour from your original prompt.

It always started really hurting around the sixth lash, and this time was no different. But like every other time, she refused to cry, or even let out as much as a whimper. Instead she bit down hard on her lip, until blood dripped down her chin, and closed her eyes against the pain.

A sharp tug on her scalp forced her to open her eyes. Smooth fingers dug into the skin of her forearms and she found herself being spun around. His eyes were like daggers, dark and intense, but she lifted her head and met his stare directly on.

“Go on then,” she heard herself say. “You owe me ten more.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snarled, and his eyes narrowed even more.

She still didn’t look away, just waited.

“For your defiance, you will have five more,” he said.

She lifted her chin even higher. “Fine,” she said.

The word was barely out of her mouth when a hot searing pain spread across her entire chest. Her breath left her in a huff, and her nipples felt like they were on fire.

He struck her again, the whip once more landing directly on her bare breasts.

She couldn’t help it; she whimpered. A smirk spread across his face. A hateful, evil smirk.

She forced herself to pull it together, even as another lash struck her tender skin once more, the pain unlike anything she had felt before.

She forced herself to look him in the eyes as he struck her again. And again. And again.

“Is that all you got?” she managed.

She saw his fingers tighten around the whip. Half a second later, she was flying across the room, her head smacking against the stone wall.

“Oh, I’ll show you what I’ve got,” he growled.

And the lashes rained down on her, blow after blow striking her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, even her face. The pain was beyond anything he had ever done to her, and she ached to cower in a ball, to try and protect herself. But she had promised herself long ago that she would never give him the satisfaction.

So she forced herself to focus on his face as she fought every instinct to raise her hands. The hits kept coming, the pain kept growing and finally, finally, the darkness overcame her.

Sweet dark relief.

She woke what must have been hours later. It was dark and her cell was empty of anyone besides herself. Her body felt like it had been run over by a truck … except there was something on top of her.

And she realized with a strange satisfaction that he had left her covered by a soft, clean blanket. A blanket, that when she was finally able to focus long enough to look at it, had the letters DM sewn into the bottom.

•••

He loved watching her, when no one else was looking and she wasn’t paying attention. She was by far the best slave he had ever owned, including the house elves. Everything she did was done perfectly. If he asked her to clean, it was spotless. If he asked her to cook, it was exquisite. If he asked her to stand there so he could use her as target practice for new spells, she didn’t blink an eye.

What she did do was talk back. Always talking back, challenging him, getting a rise out of him. And then just standing there, like she was nonchalantly waiting for a friend, as he beat her till her skin turned red and blistered and red covered the floor.

He wanted to see her cry, to see her break. But he wanted more to see her stand up to him. It turned him on like nothing ever had before.

But that was the one thing he hadn’t acted on. Not yet anyway. 

He needed it to be the right time. Most slaves were there to be used and thrown away. But she was different. 

He needed it to be the right time.

•••

She knew the moment he slipped into her cell that tonight was the night. And she was okay with that. In fact, she had expected it much sooner. When the other girls had been there, she had heard him with them and thought she would be next. She’d even spent nights wondering what it would be like. But he never came.

Until now.

He entered her cell quietly, not announcing himself in any way, but her years here had trained her well and she sensed him immediately and turned over to look at him. 

He was dressed in a darker robe than normal. One for nights only, she reasoned, and she watched as slowly and carefully he removed it, folding it neatly and placing it down on the ground.

He was naked underneath, as she expected he would be, and she rolled back over on to her back, immediately opening her legs for him.

He didn’t move, though, and she finally turned her head to see him just watching her.

“Come on now,” she said, and that familiar smirk spread across his face in an instant.

“Are you telling me what to do?” he barked, and she shook her head.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

“No, Sir.”

“I didn’t think so.”

He moved over to her now, standing before her. She tried to focus on his face and not let her eyes drop.

He leaned down and gripped her arms.

“Get ready for the best night of your life,” he hissed, and then he roughly flipped her over. Her face was pressed into the old dirty mattress, and she felt her legs shoved apart further than was comfortable.

For a minute, a feeling of dread spread through her. She had heard other girls say it hurt the first time, but what was a little pain compared to what she had already been through?

She lay still, waiting for something to happen.

And then a finger stroked between her legs, and she almost shot into the ceiling. He laughed harshly.

“Weasley never touched you there?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. He knew the answer already.

She kept quiet, and his finger stroked her again. Her hips moved involuntarily, and she forced herself to concentrate on staying still, but his fingers were moving against her and a groan escaped her lips before she could help herself.

She bit down on her lip to stop any more noises from coming out, and tried to focus on what his fingers were doing, so she could analyze them as she would a potion being made. 

It wasn’t so bad, she finally decided, and then she felt him spread her legs even more.

For a second, it was fine. And then …

Oh.

FUCK.

Searing pain tore through her insides as something was shoved inside her. She felt like her body was being ripped in two. The pressure between her legs was no longer pleasurable in the least, and for the first time since her first month in this place, she felt a drip of moisture slide down her cheek as a scream she couldn’t control left her throat.

Draco didn’t stop, though. In fact, the pressure and the pain got worse, as his fingers dug into her hips and he pounded against her.

Finally, she felt something being released inside her, and then she felt his weight on her back, pushing her deeper into the mattress.

He got up soon after that, getting dressed as quick as he could and slipping out of her cell as quietly as he came in.

She didn’t look at him, but she heard him loud and clear.

“Not great,” he said. “You definitely could use work.”

•••

He had to give her props. He told her she had to work on it, and she did. Like everything else he ever ordered her to do, Hermione became very good at sex very fast.

She could get him off faster and better than any other, and he never got tired of being inside her. She was tight and warm and a perfect fit, and he loved to play with every inch of her.

But what he loved most was to see the girl who tried so desperately to always be in control lose it completely. He could beat her to unconsciousness or tell her lies about her former friends, but she was stoic and unwavering.

But watching her shatter beneath him, screaming for him to make her come, gave him a thrill like nothing else.

Her first orgasm was perfection. It had taken weeks, and he had finally had to use a spell to lessen her defenses. He had also spent more time on her than he ever had on anyone in his life, but it was worth it. He tasted every inch of her skin, played with her nipples, kept his fingers moving between her legs. He sucked on her clit and slid his fingers inside her, increasing the pace and then slowing it down drastically as soon as she began to get close.

She tried not to show emotion or let him see he was getting to her, but soon she couldn’t help it. She was squirming under him, begging him almost, and that’s when he let it happen. A bite on her clit, a twist of her fingers just so, and he watched in appreciation as her body spasmed and convulsed.

It was a beautiful sight, and one he wanted to see more.

•••

It was the first time she had seen sun in three years. He took her hand and led her through the door and out into what looked like a garden. Trees and plants grew everywhere, and a shaded path led to a soft green patch of grass under a white thatched gazebo.

It was beautiful, and she took it all in like a starving person inhales food.

He kept his hand around hers and guided her over to the gazebo. He had her sit down and he took a seat beside her.

“ _Accio_ wine glasses,” he said, and seconds later a crystal goblet flew into her hand. Another second later and a fountain of wine was pouring from his wand and filling her glass.

He clinked his glass against hers and she hesitantly sipped the liquid until she was sure this wasn’t some kind of trick.

“I thought a change of scenery could be nice,” he said when she took her last swallow, and then she knew what he wanted. She let him lay her down and position her just so, and she watched as he discarded his own robes, but she couldn’t help but think, as his fingers brought her to another world and she later returned the favor, that this felt more like a date than anything she had done before in her life.

•••

He expected her to be waiting for him, but he did not expect her to be huddled in a ball in the corner of her cell in tears. She had never cried in front of him before, and the second he realized what was happening, his whole body froze.

If this had been just a few short months ago, he would have used the whip on her.

“No one cries on my watch!” he would have shouted.

But things were different now. She was more than just a slave.

He stepped inside the cell and made his way over to the corner. If she noticed him, she made no sign of it. Also a first. She never not knew he was there. She was never not ready to make some smartass comment.

He knelt down beside her and did something he had never done before. He put a hand gently on her shoulder and used the other to wipe away her tears.

She looked up at him and the look in her eyes scared him. His stomach twisted and his heart dropped.

“Tell me,” he heard himself saying and he held his breath as she spoke.

•••

She was scared, more scared than she had ever been before in her life. She knew what was supposed to happen to slaves like her, and the thought made her want to pass out.

She sat in her cell, her one hand wrapped gently across her stomach, and tried not to think about it. But she couldn’t not think about it. Her body ached everywhere, all the time. Her stomach was in knots, and she had already thrown up twice. 

She knew there was no time left, but she wished desperately that there was.

But sure enough, at the stroke of midnight, he appeared, opening her cell and gesturing to her.

It was time. She had to obey.

She got up slowly, carefully, and made her way over to Draco. He had an extra robe in his hands. He gestured for her to turn her back to him, and for the first time since she had been captured, she was allowed to wear clothes.

The fabric felt unnatural against her bare skin and it immediately began to itch, but she had more important things to worry about.

She wanted to say something to him, but she didn’t know what.

_I’m sorry_ seemed insincere since she had nothing to be sorry about. _You should have been more careful_ seemed too mom-like and that wasn’t her place. _I don’t want to go_ seemed too obvious. And _I’m going to miss you_ seemed too honest.

In the end, she settled for saying nothing at all as she followed him down the hall to her fate.

He led her up the stairs, and when they got to the last step, he took her hand and turned to look her straight in the eyes.

“Do you trust me?” he said, and his voice was just a whisper.

“Yes,” she said instantly, and she knew as she said it that it was true.

“Then let me lead,” he said.

She thought he meant out the door, but instead he turned to Apparate. She didn’t think; she just did what he said and followed along.

Her feet touched down on a dark road in the middle of a town she didn’t recognize.

“Where are we?” she said automatically, before realizing what she had done. Speaking out of turn was never allowed.

“Our new home,” he said, and for the first time that she could recall, he smiled at her. A real smile.

“What?” she asked, because she must have heard him wrong. Pregnant slaves were ordered to be given over to the Ministry to be dealt with accordingly and the babies given away to those fit to raise them. She knew the rules. She knew Draco knew them too.

“I’m not going to give you away,” Draco said. “Neither of you.”

He looked so serious, so earnest.

“Why?” she said.

“You know why,” he answered.

She did know why. Or at least she thought she knew why. But it was too much to believe in, too much to hope for. It was easier to wait for the other shoe to drop.

But the other shoe never dropped.

They changed their names, told people they were married. He let her live as he wife instead of his slave.

The day the baby was born he told her he loved her.

The day she got pregnant again, she told him she loved him too.


End file.
